Infinite Jump

Fine Print Powers, Chapter 1

Chapter 1: ACCUSATION

I hate people.

God, I hate them. They don’t understand my personal boundaries! They always get in my face and ask me rhetorical questions but expect an answer. I can feel the heat of their stinking breath as they blow it in my face with bliss. I hate knowing that they breathe the same air I do. I hate how they try to have a proud gait. The human skeleton was not meant to support arrogance. I hate men and their authoritative nature over society. I hate other women and their random hormonal attacks. I hate children most of all. They can’t possibly see that they’ll grow up into shitty sacks of flesh and bone and that’s depressing. But I refuse to feel pity, so I replace that with hatred. Maybe this is a momentary thing but for now this all rings true in my life.

These chains hurt my arms! But they won’t let me go! They keep calling me a threat. Saying things like: ‘Oh she’s dangerous we can't trust her she’ll kill us all’. Please. I’m covered in cuts and bruises and I’m missing a chunk of my hair. Do I look like that much of a threat? Oh great, a buff bald guy in a dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves. What could he want?

“What do you want?” I ask him. I can’t help but have a look of disgust on my face as I talk to this piece. I know he’s going to be a jerk. I just know it.

“You’re due for questioning.” He says in a serious tone. Was he trying to intimidate me? Hey, buddy you can’t intimidate a person that has no fear.

“What is this, Jeopardy? You haven’t aged well, Mr. Trebek.” I laugh at my own joke. My voice sounds raspy and gross. I gotta go hack.

“You’re not funny. I’m gonna unlock your wrists now. My gun is right here. If you try anything, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He pats his gun. ‘Yes, it’s still there’ I bet that’s what he’s thinking.

I wheeze while laughing hard in his face. I hope I get some spit on him. “You don’t know how good death sounds right about now!”

“Shut up. OK? I have a Taser as well.”

I laugh even harder. “Why don’t you just pull out your whole Batarang buddy? Do you have some smoke bombs too? What a joke.”

“Shut the hell up!” He growls at me. Aw. I’m threatening his authority and he can’t take it. How stereotypical. I smirk.

He pulls out his key and unlatches my chains and belts. I take off my straitjacket and immediately jump up to stretch. He reaches for his gun. How cute.. He must feel threatened.

“Calm down buddy. I’m just stretching.” He frowns at me and yanks at my arm, signaling for me to move. His hand touches an open sore and I hiss.

“Ow! I knew you’d be a jerk!” He sits me down with force and cuffs my wrists once again to the table. I let him. The man has a gun, and a Taser. I have to fear him.

I look around the room I’ve been placed in. It’s a dull, grey box. There are four walls, and a window that I can’t see through. I imagine that there are people out there, watching me.  There are four of them, I can tell, from the sound of their heartbeats.One of them must be all but obese as his heart is struggling along. Maybe they have clipboards and are trying to document how my face moves, to see if I lie. Hmm. They really have no idea who they’re dealing with here. I look down at my wrists. Angry red marks and bruises can easily be made out, even on my dark skin.

“The sooner you admit it, the sooner you can go into a nice, comfy cell for the rest of your life.” The man sits, his stomach grazing the surface of the table. Fat ass. He looks like he’s been binging on caffeine all day. His eyes are droopy and he smells of Folgers beans. But, who am I to say that? He doesn’t always look like that in this stressful shithole of a world we live in.

“Admit what, exactly?” I don’t think I’ve been out of that cell for weeks.

“You don’t think. You’re not sure. You’re lying.” He’s pointing those chubby fingers at me. I want to bite them off.

“Your logic is so funny.” I snicker to myself.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Or what? You’re gonna threaten me with another weapon, Batman?”

“I’m this close to spraying this can of mace in your face.” Does he really think I’d sit here and let him do that?

“Again with the weapons! Besides, don’t you need me to answer your questions? I can’t do that when my eyes are burning. Think dude.”

“Just spill the beans!”

“Why would I do that? You’d just eat them all.” The man sits there, fuming. His face gets red and he presses his lips together. He brings his hand up slowly to pinch the bridge of his nose to calm himself down.

“We know that you have powers. Special, super, powers. I don’t care how you got them, or how you use them, but I do want to know the truth.”

“And the truth is?”

“That you killed that couple at Plymouth Park.”